The Dancer With Cancer
  • Reads 278
  • Votes 31
  • Parts 11
  • Time 1h 10m
  • Reads 278
  • Votes 31
  • Parts 11
  • Time 1h 10m
Ongoing, First published Mar 28, 2017
Mature
Kiley Cross was a dancer before she could walk. Well of course since she couldn't walk she couldn't dance, but dancing was in her blood since the day she was born. Dancing was always on Kiley's mind because it was the only thing she was truly in love with. It was the only thing she was good at. 

      As a young  dancer Kiley Cross loved every form of dancing and every aspect to dancing. Every fall, every knee scrape, every ice water bath. She enjoyed it because that was the only safe haven she had, since she lived in an foster home with 7 different children. life wasn't what Kiley thought it would be. It was hard, unexpected and mysterious. It was like dice, you never know what comes next. 

       What came next in Kiley Cross's life was something you would never wish on anyone. It allowed her to scream, it allowed her to Cry, but it didn't allow her to give up. Leukemia cancer: A cancer of blood-forming tissues, hindering the body's ability to fight infection.

      Although Kiley had this not-so-loving disease, she always found her light to the darkness, dance. She had to dance through life. With every step of life she ended up tumbling into a boy. Multimillion dollar pop-star, who notices her dancing. 

     Will life finally get better for Kiley Cross? Or will it continue to crumble until she crumbles. Will leukemia cancer be the death of Kiley Cross or will love?
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So I have this thing. Some people would call it a catastrophe; some would call it heart breaking. It also has the name of disease, and heart killer. I call it just cancer. Simple enough as it is, right? Doesn't help that I already had it once before, it just came back to fight harder as ever. I thought it was over. Isn't it though? Don't you give up at that point? Senior year and I'm ready to end my life as a person all together. I'm tired of fighting and might as well give up because there are no chances of me living all together. So as a smart choice I move so when I die no one will know me or care about me. Wouldn't that be the logical choice? I don't want pity. Never liked, never will. So don't tell anyone I have cancer. Ever. Doesn't help that a boy started getting involved with me and snuck under my skin before I even realized what he was doing. What changed me were those few, simple words all together. "I'll love you till the end." That, that was about the time I started caring about life again. And it was all because of him.